


Yellow Ducky Pyjamas

by Thimblerig



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Cuddle Pile, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort but mostly the Comfort, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-01
Updated: 2013-04-01
Packaged: 2017-12-07 04:07:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/744026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thimblerig/pseuds/Thimblerig
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Are... are Hawkeye and Widow using you as a teddy bear?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Yellow Ducky Pyjamas

 

"Good news, Doctor Banner!" said Senior Agent Hill, "SHIELD got your General Practitioner's license reinstated!"

"Uh, thanks," said Bruce, taking the glossy black folder from her with care. He forced his shoulders straight and his eyes up. Hill was smiling, her teeth even and bright. She turned her head and called, "Bring them on up!"

Huh? Bruce paged through the file - licenses, recommendations, a prescription pad... two patient files.

Hill added, cheerfully, "Agents Romanoff and Barton are back from detached assignment. SHIELD Medical deemed it best that they recuperate in the peace of a home environment, with a licensed caregiver on hand."

"Uh, okay," said Bruce, dubiously.

"You're a licensed caregiver." Hill smiled. Her teeth were very white.

"Hey Brucie, got yourself a play-date?" said Tony, wandering through the scruffy room with a kitchenette and battered sofas that the Avengers insisted on hanging out in on their down time. He took off his sunglasses, sipped his fancy vanilla latte, and looked Hill up and down. "Or do I finally get my team-mates back from Uzbekistan-I-mean-that's-classified?"

"Yes," said Hill.

"That's a lot of abrasions," said Bruce, reading through the papers. "Cracked ribs, fractured ankle... general anaesthetic for the wound cleaning, huh."

Tony snatched the file and skimmed through the pages rapidly. "This is what SHIELD considers 'a little banged up'?" he said, adding in finger quotes. His eyes darkened.

Hill held his gaze. "So, hypothetically, Stark, taking a man with severe exhaustion and a concussion into a pitched battle would be... bad?" Tony's eyes narrowed. Interestingly, Hill broke first, when the elevator doors opened behind her and Clint and Natasha were rolled in, dopey and relaxed in soft flannel pyjamas, their heads lolling back on the head rests of chrome backed wheelchairs. She smiled again, showing even more teeth, "Care instructions are with Doctor Banner's papers. I have business to which I must attend."

 ***

"But what do we do?"

"Look after them, Tony."

"I don't know how! They've never been injured at the same time before, they usually just vanish each other!"

Natasha opened her eyes. They were dark and utterly wild. Tony squeaked. Natasha cocked her head, focused on him, moved. A deep and primal instinct made him freeze as she moved with frightening speed to seize him by the wrist.

She patted his hand.

"You don't even like me," Tony informed the red-headed killer.  "Textbook narcissist, remember?  Bah, I'm getting more coffee."  He moved his hand back.  Natasha blinked slowly, twisted gently, and gravity rolled over and showed her its belly.  Tony sat down.  "Or I could just stay on the couch," he added.  

 "If I struggled too much, she might pull stitches," he informed Bruce.

 "Very sensible," the doctor replied,  paging through files laid out on the coffee table.  Across from him, Clint watched the turning pages with fascination, reaching out a finger to bat at each moving corner.  Then, as if puppet strings had been cut, his eyes shuttered and he toppled forward.  Bruce caught his forehead with the heel of his hand.  "Hmm."  Bruce turned another page then closed the file.  "I'd better round up some supplies for changing the dressings," he said vaguely, easing the archer down to drape on the table, and then wandering off.

 ***

"Agent Agent - where are you, Agent?"

Coulson's voice came in, unexpectedly ridden with static and the busy roar of a plane. _Antarctica._

"Hope you packed your sunblock."

_I'll bring you back a fur bikini.  How can I help, Stark?_

"Your pet tigers are kinda... banged up."

Coulson's voice grew clipped. _So I've been briefed._

Over the radio, Tony heard a pilot say: _Engine 1 down._

Coulson said, _Engage auxiliary propulsion._

Again over the radio, Thor boomed, _I will not fail!_

"And, uh, is it normal for them to be this quiet?"

 _Yes, it's a trained response to sedation. They have a lot of secrets so if they don't talk, they can't lose them. Just don't make any sudden movements or touch without permission._ Coulson's voice attained a horribly encouraging note. _You'll be fine._

"I'm not doing the touching - they're touching _me._ " 

_There's something on the wing!_

"There's something stroking my hair!"

_Oh, Natasha does like you, I'd often wondered._

_I'm on it,_ said a staticky Steve over the plane roar. _Sloane and Gutierrez, with me._

Over radio transmitted gunfire, Coulson added, _Going radio silent. Good night and good luck._

*** 

"Yes Pepper, I know you're in Brazil but-"  Tony sighed as his CEO hung up.

"Shall I contact Lieutenant Colonel Rhodes, sir?" asked JARVIS with exquisite politeness.  "I believe he is only in a  _small_  military engagement at present..."  Tony groaned and settled back on the couch.  Small as Natasha was, when she was wrapped around his ribs she was very heavy.

At the other end of the couch, Barton piped up with, "She lied about the narcissism, you know.'  He was playing gently with Natasha's toes, his eyes half lidded and veiled with lashes.  She mumbled something and kicked out.  "Ribs, Tasha!"

 "Why would she do that?"

"She reckons you're a guy who likes to want what you think you're not supposed to be having.  And... stuff."

"That's very astute, coming from a woman in yellow duckie pyjamas."  They were very nice pyjamas, actually, childish pattern aside - plush, with satin piping on the edges, and smelling strongly of vanilla.  "You have blue trains on your clothes."

Clint hugged his chest protectively.  "I like trains.  And SHIELD Laundry _love me_."  He added, "Some arseholes you just want to wrap in a blanket and make the bad things go away, yeah?" He didn't meet Tony's eyes, still softly smiling at his partner.

"Oh, she needs a blanket? I can get a blanket."  Tony attempted to rise then sighed back into his plushy couch.  "JARVIS, procure a blanket forthwith."

 "DUM-E is on his way, sir."

 Tony gingerly patted Natasha's shoulder.  "There there.  There."

  _ _***__

 At midnight, Bruce walked into the common room to do the four hourly checkup - Tony Stark was sitting bolt upright on the couch, a pair of matched assassins draped over him and clinging tightly.  Two feather comforters were tangled around his feet.

 "Are... are Clint and Natasha using you as a teddy bear?" Banner asked.

 " _Help me,_ " Tony begged, despair in his eyes.

 Bruce nodded, and fetched the soft red blanket that had taken residence in the commons.  A small  _Stark Solutions!_  mouse was put away with it, and he tucked them carefully around the threesome.  "Sleep well," he said.

_End_

__

Deleted Scene:

The elevator doors hissed open and Coulson's little timeshare minion, uh, Dashforth? stood in the doorway, dark hair wild and her generous bosom heaving. "I came as soon as I heard! I'm here to help!"

Tony glared at her from under his pile of snoozing assassins.

Dash- uh, Benn- er, _Wickham_ paused for a closer look.  "Orrrrrr," she purred, "I could leave you to it.  You appear to have things well in hand, Mr Stark."  She lifted up her phone to take pictures.

"I know where you live and I can raise the rent."

"See you at Blackmail Poker night, Mr Stark."

**Author's Note:**

> You can see more Blackmail Poker in DaisyNinjaGirl's excellent "Saint Basil, Fool for Christ". DaisyNinjaGirl, bless her, provided the last scene.


End file.
